Rescue Me
by LaylaBinx
Summary: AKA: Five Times Cougar Saved Jensen's Ass and One Time Jensen Saved His :D No slash but can be read that way :p Hurt/comfort fluff galore!


**Just felt like playing around a bit ^.- Hope you all like it! :D**

**I own nothing! =/**

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OOOOO (1. Helicopter)

One of the first things the team learned about Jake Jensen was that he had zero sense of self-preservation. He wasn't cocky or arrogant, he wasn't trying to prove anything or make up for a secret vendetta he harbored, making him the classic Byronic hero. No, it was just the fact that he really didn't think before he acted. He just kinda...acted. That and the fact that he never shut up. God, the kid could talk to a brick wall for hours and that usually managed to land him in more trouble than it was worth. Turns out that most of the people they went up against, arms dealers, drug runners, terrorists from every country in the world, didn't like a chattering computer tech buzzing around them on a constant basis. That's when the bullets usually started flying.

He was a genius, a board-certified fucking genius, but that didn't mean he was smart. No, if anything it seemed to drop his IQ a few points when it came to real world situations. One of the first words Cougar ever said to him was "idiota"; he was an idiot, pure and simple. When he wasn't rambling about computers and technology, he was dodging bullets. None of them knew which was a worse outcome.

They were in the middle fo the damn rainforest and the bullets were snapping by so quickly they could smell the gunpowder. One dug itself into a tree just millimeters away from Clay's head but he didn't appear to notice. All they could focus on was the distant thumping of helicopter blades. They broke through a clearing a few seconds later, sprinting toward the helicopter with bullets pinging off the side of it the entire time.

Clay shoved each of them into the open door of the chopper, ducking as another round of bullets ricocheted off the metal walls. The others were strapping themselves into the seats, covering their heads in a desperate attempt to avoid getting killed before they took off. Jensen was busy securing his laptop and the rest of his technical gear to the floor with rope, not really focusing on the bullets around them. He was talking, God, he was always talking, and it was clear he was more worried about the equipment than getting shot. The helicopter jolted and Cougar grabbed a fist-full of the younger man's shirt, hauling him onto the seat just as they lifted off.

Bullets were still bouncing off the metal, spent shells landing inside the cabin of the chopper as it struggled to pull itself above the tree-line. It was going to be a bumpy ride, they all knew it and braced for the worst, tightening their harnesses a bit as the helicopter shuddered and pulled. Well, all except for Jensen, who was still too worried about the things he hadn't strapped down to bother buckling himself in. It made sense in a weird, Jensen-logic way: if the equipment was destroyed, they lost all of the information they'd gathered on this particular group of drug dealers. That included payment records, names of the men involved, locations where it was shipped, everything. They needed that information and if it was lost then their whole mission was for nothing.

That thought process was quickly cut off when the helicopter jolted sideways suddenly and Jensen toppled backwards, out of the open doorway. He heard Clay shout his name, saw a flash of blue sky, and realized he would probably be dead before he hit the ground. Except he didn't keep falling like he thought he would. Something grabbed his leg in a tight, unrelenting grip and he bounced off the metal siding roughly. He looked up, half-surprised and more than a little confused, and saw Cougar gripping his leg tightly, straining to keep him from falling completely.

"Holy shit...!" He gasped, managing to grab onto the door of the chopper and pull himself back in before another rain of bullets could tear through him. He landed in the seat next to Cougar and all of them were angrily yelling at him to buckle himself in. Jensen didn't need to be told twice. He secured himself to the seat (fuck the equipment) and leaned back, breathing heavily. As the rush of adrenaline began to wear off, he looked at the Sniper sitting next to him, eyeing him from below the brim of his hat. "Thanks Coug." He said, hoping it was heard over the beating blades above their head.

The other man nodded slightly. "De nada."

**OOOOO** **(2. Scorpion)**

Cougar wasn't sure when he became Jensen's unofficial handler. The kid was twenty-three years old and a Spec Ops soldier for Christsake, he didn't need a handler, he should know how to take care of himself. But they all knew that wasn't the case. They all watched each others backs, covered each other and made sure no one got themselves killed. It just happened that Jensen needed a bit more watching than anyone else on the team and who better than the resident Sniper? He wanted to shoot himself in the foot when Clay told him to keep an eye on Jensen from now on.

They were sitting in a crappy motel room just the other side of the border, the streets filled with trash, stray dogs, and hookers, and it was so fucking hot none of them could breathe. It didn't help that the hotel room was the size of closet and they could only afford two of them. Pooch had actually opted to sleep in the van, saying it was better in there than sharing a room with two other guys.

They weren't sure where Clay wandered off to, he tended to do that from time to time and no one ever really questioned it. Roque was shuffling a deck of cards, Jensen was babbling on about something (as always), Pooch was doing his best to ignore him, and Cougar was the reigning champion of the Quiet Game. This had been going on for days and he was pretty sure everyone was beginning to develop cabin fever.

Clay walked in about five minutes later, paper in hand, saying they needed to check something out across town. It was the unspoken "get your shit and lets go" tone that made them pack up the game. They milled around the room, grabbing weapons, equipment, and everything else they would need for the mission.

Jensen had sat down on the bed, pulling his boots on and still talking when he gasped suddenly, jerking his foot out of the boot and dropping it to the floor.

"What's wrong?" Pooch asked over his shoulder, a teasing tone in his voice. "Mouse in your boot?"

"More like a scorpion..." Jensen muttered, shaking out his boot and watching as a tiny, brown scorpion tumbled out of his shoe and landed on the carpet. He crushed it immediately.

"Well, that's why you shake out your shoes before you put them on." Roque mumbled, tucking a knife into his own boot. "Now quit your bitching and get up, we got work to do."

Jensen didn't get up. He didn't move at all other than gripping the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles turned white. He was breathing hard, unnaturally, and a layer of sweat had suddenly appeared across his forehead.

"Jensen, up and out. We gotta get moving." Clay barked, hovering in the doorway. He hated waiting, especially when there was something that needed to be done.

The younger man still didn't move, shaking his head forcefully and gripping the bed even tighter. "A scorpion..." He said breathlessly. "Of all the stupid..." He didn't finish, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second.

"Jensen, man, what's the matter?" Pooch, or maybe Roque?, said from across the room, but Cougar wasn't listening. He'd seen this before and he knew exactly what was going on. He was across the room in a second, digging through a back near the door as Pooch crossed the room to Jensen.

"Jesus Christ...Clay!" Pooch snapped over his shoulder in a voice that made the older man rush to his side. "He can't breathe, man! He's having some kind of allergic reaction."

Clay cursed and the three of them were hovered around the younger man as he continued to choke and gasp for air. Cougar wasn't listening; his fingers brushed the smooth plastic of the object he was looking for and he grabbed it, rushing across the room and jamming it into Jensen's leg. There was a loud click and a few seconds later, Jensen took a deep, gasping breath and shook his head, coughing hoarsely. "Ah shit..." He gasped, coughing as Pooch patted him on the back sharply.

"What the-" Roque started, turning to face the Sniper.

"My sister is allergic to bees." Cougar said simply, dropping the epi-pen into his pocket. "I keep one with me everywhere I go."

Jensen was still gasping, his face flushed and pale, but he smiled at the older man. "Thanks man..."

"De nada..."

**OOOOO (3. Bomb)**

There's a wail of a siren somewhere above their heads and a really irritating buzzing noise coming from the alarms around the room. The lights are flashing, orange-yellow, casting the entire room into an odd hue and the computer screen an even stranger color. Jensen doesn't move away from the computer, he's too focused on the task at hand.

Cougar isn't sure where the others are but he knows they need to get out of here and soon. Trying to remotely deactivate a bomb that was hidden somewhere in the building with nothing but a laptop shouldn't have been a problem for Jensen but the rapid descent of the countdown suggested otherwise. It was close to the two minute mark and he was still struggling with it.

"It shouldn't be this hard to break through..." He muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he tried formula after formula to deactivate the bomb. Nothing was working and he was getting frustrated. "These guys aren't exactly geniuses, I mean yeah their system is pretty impressive, but its nothing a few days of hacking couldn't get through. You know, they only had a couple firewalls and codes set up around their-"

Cougar wasn't listening, he was watching the countdown. It was coming too fast, nearing the one minute point, and he wasn't entirely convinced Jensen could break through before all Hell broke loose. He had faith in the kid, sure, but there was a difference between faith and living to tell about it and it looked like they weren't going to be doing any of the latter unless Jensen hurried the hell up.

"-unless its a computer malfunction but that can't be right. I programmed this software myself so it should work to a T and for some reason its not breaking through no matter what I do. Maybe if I try re-routing the other system to-"

Jensen was still talking as the timer broke down into seconds. They weren't going to finish in time but damned if Jensen wasn't going to try. Cougar knew for a fact that if he didn't act soon, the blond would just sit there and continue to type away until the entire damn building exploded.

He grabbed a fist-full of the younger man's as the timer struck :30 seconds and hauled him out of the chair, literally dragging him across the room and toward the only door in this part of the building. Jensen was protesting the entire time, insisting that he could finish it, but by the :15 second mark they were both running.

There's an odd silence right before an explosion, as if the entire world stops for a split second in observation of the destruction about to take place. They had barely cleared the second row of parking spaces before the building exploded behind them, sending chunks of concrete, metal, and glass all over the parking lot. Cougar grabbed Jensen's arm and pulled him to the ground just as a large piece of concrete flew past his head. They tucked behind a parked car, the alarm wailing persistently above them as the building continued to crumble. It was empty, they'd made sure of that, but it was still a hell of a loss.

Debris rained from the sky, covering them with dust and pieces of the building. The windows shattered in the car, raining glass all over them. And then it was silent. The same oppressive silence that occurs right before an explosion follows immediately after it as well. There was nothing but the ringing in their ears to fill the lack of sound.

Clay was saying something through the ear piece, something probably important, but Jensen couldn't bring himself to answer at the moment. Instead, he looked over at the dust-covered Sniper beside hime and offered a shaky smile. "Guess I owe you again, Coug." He laughed softly, the sound far away in his still-ringing ears.

Cougar simply nodded and shook dust off his hat.

**OOOOO** **(4. Cord)**

It was somewhere between their (thankfully empty) van blowing up and Clay getting shot in the leg that Cougar could tell the mission had gone straight to hell in a hand basket. Roque and Pooch were busy getting Clay to a safer location and it once again fell on Cougar to go find their computer tech who had yet to show up at the meeting point.

He ran into the building trying to pinpoint the last location Jensen had been in. He was copying files onto a hard drive, a task that shouldn't have taken more than a few minutes for him, but the fact that he was still gone could only mean he'd run into some kind of trouble. Being Jensen and seeing how the rest of the mission had gone progressively downhill, Cougar wouldn't be surprised at all.

He passed the empty offices, gun clutched in one hand tightly, his eyes darting into each room in search of the blond. He reached the end of the hall and turned toward the last office, his heart shuddering to a stop in his chest.

There was a man on top of Jensen, pinning his arms to the ground while he had a cord wrapped around his throat. He was huge, easily out-weighting the younger man by about a hundred pounds, and he wasn't letting up anytime soon. Cougar didn't take his size into consideration or the fact the man could probably snap both of them like a twig. All he knew was that he had a cord wrapped around Jensen's throat and Jensen wasn't moving. And all Cougar saw was red.

He had fired three times before he realized it, the man's head disappearing in an explosion of blood and tissue and everything above the neck resembling salsa by the time he finished. The man slumped to the side, his grip on the cord loosening as he fell. Cougar was across the room and at Jensen's side a split second later.

The blond was pale, the marks on his throat angry and red, and his lips had a faint bluish tint to them. Cougar didn't have to guess that he wasn't breathing. He pulled the cord from his neck, pausing for just a second to check for pulse he was nearly certain wasn't there. Suspicions confirmed, he tilted the younger man's head back and breathed into him, cursing silently and wanting nothing more than shoot the man again. He pulled back, positioning his hands over Jensen's heart and began pressing down rhythmically, counting in his head. He was praying, mumbling words over and over as he continued his compressions, though he wasn't really sure who he was praying to.

Jensen coughed suddenly, his face contorting in pain, and he drew in a sharp, choking breath. Cougar sat back on his knees, slipping an arm around Jensen's shoulders and helping him sit up. The younger man coughs and gags and chokes for about five minutes before he breathe normally and Cougar thinks its the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.

"Bastard snuck up on me..." He gasps after a second, looking at the blood mess that's left of the man.

Cougar simply nods, his dark eyes focused on the ligature marks on Jensen's throat. They're bruising already and he knows its only going to get worse as the days go by. He feels his fists clench at his side, wishing to put a few more bullets in man once more. Instead, he wraps his arm around Jensen's shoulders and helps him stand, taking most of the weight because he knows he's probably dizzy from oxygen deprivation.

Jensen leans into him heavily, still coughing occasionally, and whispers a soft thank you next to Cougar's ear. The older man doesn't trust himself to speak without his voice cracking so he just nods and helps Jensen out of the room.

**OOOOO (5. Russian)**

"We know you're one of Clay's boys." The man growls in a thick Russian accent just before he punches Jensen again.

There are two other men in the room with him, excluding the one speaking to him, and Jensen smirks and spits blood. "Good for you." He says, feeling the side of his face beginning to swell up already. His lip is split and he pretty sure he's going to have one hell of a shiner by the time this is all over. "You want a medal or something? I think they make those now...what are they called...? The No-Shit-Sherlock award, I think?" Another punch and he winces this time, biting back a curse.

"You will tell us what you did with those discs!" The man growls, landing another solid punch into the younger man's chest, effectively breaking a rib. Jensen does curse at this point as the air is forcefully knocked out of his body. "I know you took them!"

Jensen manages a laugh and shakes his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, man...discs for what?" He plays innocent because until back-up arrives, there't not much else he can do. "Hit me all you like, I can't tell you what I don't know..."

The Russian cracks his knuckled loudly and takes a step backwards, smiling down at Jensen. "I see, playing dumb, hm?" He chuckles deeply, a thick, rolling sound in his chest and looks to his companions. "Well, we can try a different approach then."

"Awesome, I'm all for not getting the shit kicked out of me." Jensen quips and smiled, wincing as the action makes his lip bleed even more.

The man pulls out a file flipping through it casually. "Your sister is beautiful." He says and Jensen stops cold, a sick, sinking feeling filling his chest. He knew this guy worked with Max but that meant that Max had found out about their families and if that was the case then they were all royally fucked.

"And a pretty, little niece as well." There's a picture of Hannah, her school picture, and Jensen feels his blood begin to boil. "You see, we know a lot about you and your team." The Russian continues, dropping the folder into his lap and leaning in close. "We know more than you think and we can make this very, very bad for you and everyone you love."

Jensen isn't looking at him, he's too focused on the droplets of his blood staining Hannah's picture. "Yeah, well...there's something you don't know, Boris..." He mutters, trying to keep the death out of his voice.

"Ah? And what's that?" The man laughs heartily, pleased that he has the upper hand in this argument.

Jensen smirks. "My best friend is a Sniper."

There's a sudden look of terror across the man's face but he barely has time to process it before three bullets slice through the window and hit each mark perfectly. "Do svidaniya, motherfucker." Jensen growls through gritted teeth as blood seeps from the bullet wound between the Russian's eyes.

There's a five minute gap between the bullets fired and Cougar bursting into the room, gun still drawn. "Hey Coug," Jensen smiles through the split lip. "Good timing, thanks."

Cougar nods and cuts him loose, grabbing the folder from Jensen's lap and looking at it carefully. His dark eyes widen and Jensen nods in return. "We need to tell Clay."

**OOOOO (Cougar)**

Its been nearly a week since the helicopter was shot down in Bolivia, killing 25 children and effectively destroying their lives. Nearly a week and he still can't get the sounds of their screams out of his head. Nearly a week and he can still see them burning, screaming, dying right in front of him and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

They cope differently: Pooch calls his wife about five times from separate pay phones and hangs up before she answers because he's too afraid to admit that its pretty much over for them. Roque and Clay disappear every night, no one is sure where to, and don't come back until morning. Jensen doubles over his laptop for hours on end, trying to piece together what the hell just happened and if there's anyway to fix it. And Cougar...well, Cougar just can't bring himself to talk about anything anymore. Words just seem so cumbersome, so useless, that he keeps them to himself.

He hasn't really slept since that day, every time he closes his eyes he sees the children dying, just out of his reach. He can't get past their screams, the sounds of the flames slowly and completely destroying all of them. He wishes he could drown it out somehow, forget even just for a second, but he knows its impossible. Nothing in this world would ever make him forget that day.

He slips out one night, disappearing into a rat-hole bar right next to their hotel. Its hot and crowded and he doesn't care. He buys and entire bottle of tequila and is perfectly content to drink himself into oblivion in an effort to simply lessen the pain of that day. He doesn't know how long he stays there, or how many bottle of tequila he went through before Jensen came wandering in, spotting him at the end of the bar and walking over to him.

"Hey." He says and its unusual for that not to be followed by a random string of techno-babble. Instead, he leaves the rest hanging, empty in the air, and keeps his eyes on Cougar. the older man hates it, he hates that looks because it reminds him of the kids they couldn't save. Every eye in this bar has looked at him like that at some point in the evening; that mixture of pity, anger, resentfulness, hopefulness, and everything in between. He hates it and wants nothing more than to drown himself in the bottle or put a bullet right between his eyes.

"You know there was nothing we could have done..." Jensen says softly, keeping his voice low. Still, the words ring in his ear like they were spoken over a loud speaker. "I saw it too, Coug...I saw them too..." Jensen's still talking but Cougar isn't listening. He's on his feet, swaying drunkenly and pushing past the blond on his way outside.

No matter how skilled and badass Cougar is, he's no match for a sober Jensen. The younger man grabs him by the arm and Cougar turns on him angrily, swinging wildly in an attempt to hit anything. He doesn't care who or what, its just something to make the pain go away. Jensen dodges easily, avoiding blow after blow, and finally grabbing hold of the Sniper tightly and pinning his arms to his sides in a fierce embrace.

"Cougar stop!" He growls in the Sniper's ear and Cougar resists the urge to slam them both into the wall. He struggles viciously for a few seconds, desperate to get away because getting away means he won't have to face it...he won't have to face those kids...

"We couldn't do anything man...none of us could..." Jensen breathes in his ear, his voice resigned in a way the older man has never heard. "We couldn't do anything..."

There's a strangled sound, somewhere between and growl and a sob, and Cougar realizes its coming from him. He doesn't feel the tears running down his face until they're soaking into Jensen's shirt. He can't stop, its all too much. Instead, he grips Jensen as tightly as he can, burying his face in the younger man's shoulder and letting everything go.

For once, Jensen is silent. He doesn't bother telling him it will be okay, they all knew it wouldn't be, and he doesn't offer reassurances. He's scared to death, they all are, and nothing is going to fix that. So he wraps his arms around the Sniper, holding him close and closing his eyes, waiting for it to be over.

Neither of them are sure how long they stand there, hours or minutes, they simply don't know. Finally, Cougar takes a step back, swaying a bit thanks to the alcohol in his system and nods to Jensen. His eyes are red, his normally flawless reserve shattered, and Jensen doesn't care. "Thank you..." He says brokenly, because right now its the only thing he can manage.

Jensen smiles softly and nods. Its not okay and it never would be, but they had to try. "Anytime."

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**Hope y'all liked it! :D**


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